Every Sinner Has A Future
by Rebuilt.Empire
Summary: Prostitution!AU where the spread eagle isn't a trick; It's a livelihood.  This fic includes mild dashes of angst, humour and innuendo aplenty; Not part of a healthy breakfast.  Prussia POV, mainly revolves around Arthur/England  & Gilbert/Prussia.
1. Prologue: The Routine

Hiya! So, this is my first multi-chaptered fic ever.. So here's hoping it isn't a massive pile of fail. :U Anywho, on to the important-ish-er stuff. This fic is actually based on a prompt I wanted to fill on the Hetalia Kink Meme, however.. My story has strayed so far from the original prompt, it wouldn't have been ever remotely what the OP was looking for. Therefore, because I liked my story, here it is on ! Hooopefully so other people will enjoy it too, eheh;;

NOW ONTO THE /ACTUALLY/ IMPORTANT INFO! 3

This is an AU. A prostitution AU set in modern times and in which alll the Hetalians in it are humans, and COME FROM THE SAME COUNTRY. Therefore, the ur, nationality-based parts of the Hetalian's persona are kind of moot. (IE: Gilbert wouldn't be using random german intermittenly, and Francis wouldn't be saying any 'mon cher' or 'mon ami's, etc. etc.) However, do expect to see Arthur drop a couple of Britishisms, because.. It's just so him to do it! xD (And it makes him sound stuffy compared to everyone else- N-no offense meant to any of those lovely brit readers, by the way! ||orz )

DISCLAIMER; I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia, or any of Hidekaz's characters. Unfortunately. ..WhatIwouldn'tdotohavePrussia..

Alrighty! So, here the prologue is, after much rambling and nonsense from me. Enjoooooy c:

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"Heh. Worried? Believe me, you won't regret this."

Hustler.

"Jesus-! ..Fuck.."

Rent-boy.

"H-heh.. I'm expensive for a reason."

"H- Ah, heh. Mmm.."

Escort.

"Hng! God- I.. G-getting close huh, babe?"

Gigolo.

"F-fuck!"

Prostitute.

Gilbert smiled darkly, closing the door behind his john, curling his free hand around the crumple of bills resting there. Locking the door to his rather spacious apartment and flopping himself down on the couch that wasn't just recently sullied. ..In-calls were always bitch to clean up.. Fuck it. Whatever.

"20.. 40.. 60.. 80.. 100." He drawled, ignoring the mess across from where he sat, crumbling the afore mentioned bills and inserting them into the pocket of his long discarded pants.

"120..140.. 160.. 180.. 200.. 220.. 240." The platinum blonde smirked and added the rest of the money to that same pocket; Not a great amount, but then again.. This trick was pretty vanilla; Just sex, no extras, nothing kinky.

So easy it almost made him laugh as he stretched out and sunk into the couch for a moment, however, he wasn't about to let himself fall asleep in his state.

With a grunt he heaved himself off the couch, cursing that mild sting running down his back as he plodded over to his washroom. Easily discarding the last of the clothes still on his body, blindly adjusting the taps as he gave himself a once over in the mirror.

Good, it was a clean run; No bruises, no marks. Finishing his assessment he hopped quickly into the shower, letting out a long hum once fully under the warm spray of water.

Gilbert didn't go quickly at all while in the shower; Took his time just enjoying the water rushing past, his hair plastered to his forehead and neck, how the soap foamed and slid down his body. Careful not to vocalize from the acute stimulation of his own hands; (Having prudes living above and beside you was shitty as fuck.) innocent in application as he washed himself and his hair with the same easy rhythm.

Finishing with a small sigh, he stood in the rapidly cooling water before turning the spray off and stepping out to towel himself off.

Maybe it was because of his profession that getting clean was almost as arousing as getting dirty.

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Hey! So, there was the prologue. Short and sweet, I hope. xD;; And, well, the next chapter should finally introduce our other leading man. :v Anywho, hope you enjoyed reading this!


	2. Chapter 1: Bars and Boulevards

Yayyy, so, here's the first real chapter! :'D I hope the length is a bit more satisfying in this chapter, considering the prologue really was just a teensy teaser.

Oh! And I forgot to mention; I'm so, so, SO sorry that I forgot to mention that Gilbert, this AU Gilbert (Well, my Gilbert in general..) has a horrible mouth, not that it wasn't already apparent. xD But yeah, seeing as this story is kinda.. From his outlook, the narration- Not to mention said man's dialogue- has a lot of.. err, f-bombs. Yes. Those. ..Orz||

ANYwho. This chapter's guest star is none other than Mr. Francis Bonneyfoy! -Ah, and it's also Arthur's first appearance, however, at this point Francis actually has a larger part then him.. This'll change soon, promise!

Now for the usual disclaimer: I don't own any part of Axis Powers: Hetalia. Still. By the way, page breaks seem to hate me right now, so sorry about the horrible formatting. OTL

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For the first time in the longest time, Gilbert had a night to himself and was out walking the streets for the sheer reason that he had the time and money to burn.

It felt fucking awesome to be out on his own time, with no set plan or tasks to accomplish. He wasn't trying to follow any shitty directions to a john's house, and he wasn't out simply for necessities like toilet paper- And condoms. Beer too. (There was no way to get his business done with some customers unless he was at least buzzed.)

This was probably the one thing he missed most about being a street-walker; The fact that it wasn't a waiting game like it was being.. (What did his ads say..?) An 'escort.' He was able to be the one out and about, finding clients based on his intuition, running from police on the night beat- convincing people through car windows and generally feeling the real pulse of the city.

It was rarely safe and often dry when it came to clients, (No one believed you were clean when you walked the boulevard.) but he couldn't find any real cons to that life- Well.. Becoming a crack whore, but he would never do that to his temple of a body.

Having walked himself to the middle of fucking nowhere, Gilbert pulled out his old-school (and totally fucking decked out) phone, and had a scroll through the contacts. Having no luck deciding on who to call and demand attention from, he checked his one unanswered text;

'In town. Meet usual place! ps: not paying for you.

-Francis'

Gilbert snapped is phone shut quickly, grinning like an idiot and took back off in the direction he had come from. He really had nothing better to do then wander and get drunk anyway, so why not see an old friend in the business while simultaneously getting drunk?

That option was definitely up his alley.

Francis.. He hadn't seen that prick in a million years. Wonder if he still looked the same, was still in the business and still making one hell of a living. (The man lived like a goddamn king!) Thanks to his quick pace, Gilbert made it too the 'usual place' in good time, throwing the doors open in his vigor, easily spotting his friend sitting at the bar, facing out into the relative quiet of the dive.

Heh.. He still managed to stick out in any type of crowd. Hair too long to be anything but androgynous, tied loosely at the base of his neck. Easy posture that couldnt be read as anything but 'come here' in the universal language of the body. (Easy to see why he was a veteran in his trade.) The closer he got to his old friend the more he could come to appreciate about the man.

Sliding onto a stool next to him, offering a grin and receiving the crinkled half-smile that melted you before you could even question what it was hiding- Fuck- If he was ever to buy someone, it would be Francis, no question. And those fucking eyes. The kind of blue you expect to see on Ms. America or the girl-next-door; But he did it better. Examining the other's face through what he felt were discrete glances for bruises of any kind. (The sex trade, for how awesome it was, wasn't always peaches and cream.)

"...ert..? Gilbert?"

Said man's eyes fluttered, regaining his focus and smirked back at the blonde. "What? You know I'm not used to having my name called." The well-aimed quip causing both men to break into a short burst of laughter at Gilbert's dry humour.

"Ah, but isn't it always better that way?"

Gilbert sneered; "Yeah, because I'm always either 'Jesus Christ' or 'Oh god'." waving over the wandering bartender to order, halting in doing so to roll his eyes at the dark look Francis was giving him. "I know, I know." He called, raising his arms into the air, "Your not paying. I got a lot last week, I can pay my way-"

"And mine too of course~" The blonde man chimed in, smling in that damned way of his; All honey, wine and roses.

"...Yeah, yeah. Yours too." Gilbert grumbled reluctantly, propping his head on his arms, which were spread across the area of the bar in front of him. Watching with an almost-pout as his friend ordered some of the most expense liquor the bar had.

"Hey. So, how are you anyway? Still playing french-maid to old men?" Gilbert drawled, as if it what he said was the most everyday topic of conversation. Noting the short laugh and deft hands on his shoulders, it was obvious he'd made Francis slightly embarassed with his off-hand question.

"Gilbert, Gilbert.. I'm perfect as always." Francis cooed, still massaging the other man's shoulders in a slow rhythm. "And besides, I'm much more interested in hearing your exploits."

Gilbert rolled his eyes at his friends fucking flowery language, giving a half-hearted sigh of defeat and shrugging Francis's hands from his shoulders. "Not too fucking much, honestly... Everything's been pretty vanilla lately- Money's been good and sex is sex, y'know?" He quipped, phrasing the end as a question, but didn't want, or expect an answer in return.

"Heh.. I guess the best one recently was that submissive, prissy, rich kid." Gilbert laughed and grinned back at Francis. "I told you about him before, yeah?"

"Feel free to refresh my memory." The reply was simple, most likely because Francis was busy ordering another drink. Asshole. He was only an alcoholic when it was on someone else's tab.

"Him or his friends- Fuck if I remember or care- Anyway, I had a call to come to this random house. The details and directions were shit, but I had no money." Gilbert started, too excited to tell his tale to stop, whether or not Francis was listening or using his distraction to get more and more shit-faced. (Not that he'd ever seen the man entirely smashed.. Shit. Was that even possible?)

"So I go when they ask. And it's this huge-ass mansion! So I'm fucking stoked, head in, and this faggy little voice from god-knows-where tell me to come upstairs. I do, and I see this little, cross-dressing twink lying on a bed in lingere. I mean hell! You dont even know how hard it was to not laugh in his face!" Gilbert continued, snorting at the memory himself, because shit it was hilarious!

"So, I get it together, screw him- And get this. He made me roleplay! Some sort of retarded knight and princess routine, talk about fucked up! The best part?" Gilbert was now so completely into his own story he was practically glowing with delight. "I made almost a grand on that one. Seriously! I should just cater to snotty, submissive rich kids and I'd be set."

Finishing with a manic smile and a long mouthful of his drink, Gilbert waited on his friend's reaction. (It had to be good right? His story was awesome!) Francis' lack lustre reaction of a good-hearted chuckle was definitely not satisfactory in his book. Gilbert gave a disgruntled huff in response and turned out to idly watch the other people filling the bar; A not-so subtle way of expressing that his friend's reaction was completely unsatisfactory. (Not to mention un-awesome.)

A bunch of drunk chicks were what he first caught sight of; All of them too far gone to do more than giggle non-stop and shriek periodically, and to his amusement, too obtuse to even try to be discrete when they pointed at him and waved like that would get them somewhere.

Gilbert threw a half-assed grin in their general direction before turning to watch the opposite end of the bar.

..Huh. He lazily glanced over the sparce crowd in the other half. Most of the habitants being obnoxiously drunk - And he knew obnoxious- Sport fans all crowed around the TV, some artsy-looking fags huddled together in one area, most likely so the burlier guys don't try to kick their asses.

Most interesting, were the people that sat alone. Tonight, there was one in particular that caught Gilbert's attention. He couldn't even exactly place why, considering the object of his attention couldn't be farther from what was conventionally attractive. Large, obscenely large eyebrows, hair that the word 'coarse' might be too soft a word for- Although the colour was a fairly average ashy blonde.. A bit pudgy around the cheeks, and his face was caught in what seemed to be a permanent look of disapproval.

No, not attractive at-fucking-all.

Shit. The guy wasn't hot, maybe lukewarm at best, so why the hell did he find him so interesting! Gilbert grunted mutely to himself, sliding a bit lowering his chair to get a better look, hopefully a better understanding of why he couldn't help watching the sour-faced bastard.

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Pale fingers drummed against their owners hip as said man fought with his unnatural interest in the most average specimen he'd ever laid eyes on. Fuck! Gilbert swung his body back to face the front of the bar, laying his chin down on the worn wood surface, oblivious thanks to his musings to the quizzical look Francis was shooting him.

"..Who is it that's caught your interest, my friend?" Francis asked slowly, the slight teasing tone in his voice lost to the man flopped out over the bar beside him. Getting only an angry grunt in response, Francis tried his luck once again. "Gilbert, come now. If you are scanning for clients you could at least share the details with me, no?"

Gilbert perked up at what was just a logical assumption by his friend, languidly he turned his head in Francis's direction, the familiar smirk he wore creeping back to his face. Of course, that was it! The only reason he was interested, (Of course) was because the guy looked gay- And gay meant they were client material, and clients meant cash. Glancing swiftly back at the object of his interest, happy, oddly enough to have the scowl turned on him. Happy because his timing couldn't have been better. Hurriedly he sat up and quickly, too quickly, pressed his lips to his friend's, banging their teeth together quite nicely.

After a shared wince between the two, the short exchange ended, pulling away with another glance and cheshire cat grin at the scowling man in anticipation of his reaction. Gilbert, as predicted, was rewarded with those massive eyebrows shooting upwards, and their owner's eyes widening before whipping back to frowning at his drink with the obvious signs of a blush starting to ghost over his face.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Gilbert?" Francis's voice cut in before the platinum blonde could revel in the results he'd gathered. Gilbert sneered, his chest puffed out, his rhetorical 'victory' of sorts shining through in his body language. "Heh, just testing the crowd, y'know." He answered vaguely with an awkward sweep of his hand through the air. However, the look he was receiving from his friend told him his answer was far from adequate.

"Look!" He exclaimed, too loudly thanks to the alcohol he'd consumed, (Not to say he minded the extra attention.) "I'm looking into the blonde crabby one other there. He looks lonely, easy money, yeah?" He hissed, lowering his voice before brightening as he remembered a good way to placate his friend. "Besides, there's no one in here I'd want to kiss more then you anyway, man."

Heh, well, that did the trick. Gilbert smirked when Francis responded to him with a grin back at him Turning back inwards to the bar and their half-empty glasses, Francis leaning over to whisper to him;

"By the way, friend, you may want to look into what the bartender's preferences are.." The long-haired blonde finished, sliding a slip of paper over in front of Gilbert and leaning back out of his personal space all in one fluid movement. Gilbert's lips quirked at the idea of paying debts with sexual favours; It'd be easy as hell, but he wasn't that hard on cash, or that desperate. He grabbed up the piece of paper, leisurely glancing over it-

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Francis, you alcoholic slut!" Gilbert howled, clenching the receipt in his hand, all eyes on him now and his sudden outburst. His stupidly calm friend (Soon to be ex-friend that.. That... Dammit!) smiled at his reddening face and simply cooed;

"But, Gilbert, didn't you say you would pay for me, love?"

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OTL FORMATTING. WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO? orz well, besides that fact, I hope this chapter was alright! A bit slow, I know, but it'll pick up next chapter, really! c: ..So, uhm, . *SHAMELESS PLUG*  
*SHAMELESS*


	3. Chapter 2: Sidewalk Fishing

Second (real!) chapter, yayyyyyy :'D And thank you so much for the reviews! They make me as an author so very happy, not to mention they do help to inspire me to write when I wouldn't be in the mood otherwise. Ahh.. I do apologize for the slow and irregular updates, senior year of high school is hell at the moment. D| History and English Literature are trying to kill me, I swear. Again, no.. real.. Arthur interaction, or Arthur period yet..;; Ehehe, he will come! Sometime! Just.. yshkjdalkd. I dunno how soon, hopefully next chapter for sure. God, so sorry for all the pointless lead up to all those people that just want the freaking PrUK interactions already.

Normal Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, or Prussia (Gilbert), Austria(Roderich) c: Copyright to Hidekaz Himaruya.

********** I SUCK AT FORMATING SO THIS SIGNIFIES THE START OF THE CHAPTER *************

Damn Francis. Damn him and his stupid, goddamn face. And his stupid, faggy hair and his taste for expensive fucking liquor! Gilbert seethed, thinking back to last night when his oh-so charming asshole of a friend left him gaping at the massive tab that night had left him with. (Last time he'd ever do something nice for that bastard.) After shoveling out all the cash he had on hand to pay, he stalked out of the bar long after Francis had bid him adieu.

And now he was broke. Broke, pissed and hungry. Gilbert mused his mantra to himself and vowed to get Francis back someday soon. How.. Well, that came later. First came food, because his stomach was protesting louder then he could think.

Making his way over to his apartment's fridge and pulling the door open unsuccessfully the first time, reaming on it harder the second time, the appliance finally squeaking it's way open. Peering in left the man even more put-out; If he wanted to eat his options were between old-ass hotdogs, a can of coke and a half empty bottle of ketchup.

Well, dammit.

Gilbert's violet eyes fell in obvious annoyance and disappointment, plodding away to flop unceremoniously onto his beaten-but-loved couch to plan out his next move.

Well fuck, that was easy. Food.

Gilbert growled, only to be matched in volume by his stomach. "What to do.. What to fucking do.." He wasn't an idiot, anything to get money was what he was going to do, but his next trick wasn't for another two days. Shit! Now, Gilbert wasn't a man that didn't know how to help himself, so, lifting his hips from the couch he located his phone in his pants and flopped back down to make a call to his stupid, stuck up, prissy cousin. The guy always had money!

Snickering, the fair-skinned man punched in who was to be his generous donor's number and laid back down as the phone rung. "... Oh, hey! Roddy, buddy, I wuh- ..."

"N-No! Asking for money? Hell, I told you I was fine! Money, me, hah! I'm.. Uh, M'rolling in it- ... Yeah.. I still live in the same apartm- Shove it, it's not a shit hole! I make tons of cash I s- Fuck off! You call it whoring myself out, but at least I'm not the one getting my own wife to f-"

"..Fuck me." He finished his sentence, despite the dial tone ringing in his ear, seeing as he was hung up on by that rat bastard. 'Blood runs thicker than water.' Maybe in most families, but not Gilbert's. Not once everyone decided the environment he thrived in and loved being a part of was dirty, pitiful and degrading. The hell was so degrading about getting laid everyday! Not to mentioned paid for it!

They just didn't get it, and Gilbert had more important things to do than stay at home and curse his stingy relatives.

Up and off the couch with a grunt, his phone laying discarded on the couch for the time being as he headed for the bedroom. Sliding pale limbs into a cleaner pair of jeans and a fresher shirt, because no one wants to fuck someone that looks like they aren't worth the money. Of course, Gilbert could go out in a barrel without showering for a week and still get some. (Or so his ego tells him.)

Grabbing his keys to the apartment and a couple of drugstore no-name brand condoms, he stepped out of his haven and into the streets; It was time to go fishing for tricks the old-fashioned way.

Gilbert knew the ropes, which streets to gravitate to, how to flit back into the crowd when the cops decided to come break up the fun- He couldn't afford to argue with the police, no one to pull him out if they did end up taking him in for solicitation or any other crap they wanted to pin on him.

Compared to slipping past the cops, picking up johns was nothing. Just loiter around the gay bars- Push- but not too hard, and always take the money up front and never give more than what's been paid for. There were handfuls of men and women alike exiting the many dives lining the street; Tonight was going to be one hell of a feeding frenzy.

Men and women exactly like him, doing exactly what he was; Eating up the attention, hooking the bottom-feeders with body language that left no room for interpretation, plunging needy fingers into wallets, then into a motel, car or alleyway to complete the transaction.

It was business, after all. And Gilbert had his own policy in place; No sleeve no service. A rule that had lost him a few customers and given him many battle scars in the past, but hell if he was taking the chance of getting some middle-aged slimeball's diseases. Clutching his pay, Gilbert walked back with Mr. Nobody to his car to follow up with his own end of the deal, as quickly and efficiently as possible. He loved sex as much as the next nymphomaniac, but something about overweight men and cars that smelt like cigarettes didn't help him get in the mood.

Kneeling down in the cramped space to complete the task at hand, he couldn't help but wonder why he was settling for a trout when what he really craved was a great white.

Wiping his mouth as he exited the vehicle, alone, he looked around to see if there was anyone left that he could weasel his way in with before everyone in the vicinity that wanted paid pleasure was satisfied. It didn't take long for Gilbert to notice a crow-eyed man looking in his direction; Beady black eyes surveying him like the body the man was molesting with his eyes was his own property. Bastard. But, all the same, he strode over to get business underway, and hopefully over in good time. "So, what can I do for you? ..."

Well, that was easy enough to guess; The man wants to fuck. Summoning up a grin, Gilbert took the money and started to head for the nearest side street that wasn't already occupied by someone trying to sleep or beg passerbys for money. It was lazy, cheap behaviour he wouldn't be caught dead performing under normal circumstances. However, it was necessity that this job was finished fast so he could get back home before the apartment building closed it's doors for the night.

It wasn't often Gilbert felt anywhere near cheap, but something about stripping down in a back alley just seemed to reek of dirty, easy and used. None of which he was, obviously, but the atmosphere wasn't helping. In position, he stiffened suddenly, whipping around fast enough to stun his client.

"What the fuck, I said condom or no deal! The hell happened to the one I gave you!" He hissed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and lack of any reaction whatsoever from the man who attempted to break his only concrete rule.

"..Uh, I lost it. You probably like it better this way, anyway."

It was bluntly put, and hit like a slap in the face. Gilbert's anger flared at the accusation, grabbing the man who was trying to stick himself where he had no goddamn right to- At least not yet- and shoved him back. Fucking hell.. He seethed, bending down to dig within his own pants pocket for another condom so he could just get this trick turned and over with. It wasn't as if this was the first person to try and get the better of him, but that in no way meant it pissed him off any less.

Finding the little plastic pouch hiding in his pocket, he faced his unimpressed client. "You're getting what you paid for. Nothing more, nothing less." He responded dryly, rolling the condom on with his own hands to make damn sure it was going to be used. Turning back to brace himself against the exterior of the building he was against, Gilbert readied himself for the end of this business deal.

And a rough trade it was. He only realized the consequences of his little lazy alleyway fuck once he was back at home, after his shower. There were raw, red scraps along his forearms, however, Gilbert shrugged off the small scratches littering his arms. It was unavoidable in the situation, when concrete was all he had to brace himself on, he had to be able to deal with the consequences.

Heading off to bed hungry, but satisfied with his work for the day. He slipped under the covers he promised himself that next time he'd remember it was better to lose a few bucks on a motel room for an hour or two then go about business outside.

But hey, weren't promises made to be broken?

*********** BAD FORMATTING SO THIS IS THE END THAT SIGNALS IT ***************

Rate and review pleeease! It makes my heart happy ; u ;


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